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Circles, Decreasing
Merchant Row, Santra Kae
In another time and place, a different reason would explain away the deserted rooms and halls inside the Callahan Incorporated buildings. Now it was simply that the old construction had given away to the new space-defying complex on Talor main; by the end of the week, there would not even be furniture left in the old building. But that was then and this was now; Zach paused at the door of the library to give the outdated security system a chance to recognize him. He would miss this place; maybe the new building's library was smaller, flashier and better organized but nothing could match the smell of real books. Some of them were so old they were still made of paper. He moved deeper into the library, trailing a finger through the dust. Some of these books clearly hadn't been moved for years. He picked a couple of the shelves, blowing gently on the covers to reveal the titles. Both were copies of a book called "The Heroic Age", though apparently different editions. "Interesting place, you have here." "Goddess!" Zach almost dropped the books at the sudden, hoarse and completely unexpected voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone was still..." Turning to view the talker, he trailed off. "Greetings to you, young Zachary Callahan." The garnet-robed figure sat behind one of the low reading tables, face hidden in the shadows of his gold-thread trimmed hood, dirty bandaged hands holding a loose-bound paper book. Zach had the feeling the man was staring at him though he couldn't see eyes under the hood. "You know me?" Zach blinked, startled, sure he hadn't seen the other man before. "Who are you?" "I'm known as Tusitala," replied the other man evenly. "I was taking a moment to admire your library. As I said, most interesting. Of course, Nope did always have a peculiar talent for picking up things." There was something odd about the emphasis on 'picking up' but Zach was too interested in other things to question it. "You knew my Grandfather?" "This," continued Tusitala as if the other hadn't spoken, "is one of the more intriguing volumes. I've read parts of it, though it takes some doing. The shorthand form used is particularly obscure; but perhaps not as much for a scholar like yourself?" He held the book out, a stray beam of light momentarily making the wolf emblem on the cover sheen. Zach took the book carefully and reverently. "Gosh, this is amazing. It's so old I can almost feel it." The title "Tales of the Exile" was scrawled across the cover in reddish brown, dusty ink; the insides were similar, written in a scratchy series of dots, slashes and loops. "I see what you meant about obscure." He sat down in the opposite chair and spread the Tales out beneath the desk lamp. "I think I can decrypt it though. Yes, I'm certain of it." He looked up. "Where did you say you found this, again?" But the cloaked figure was long gone. Blue Sector, Talor "Karlotta, this is Jored." "Hey Jor'd." "You two play along now, while I talk to Mr. Callahan." "We're gonna play house. I'll be the mummy and you'll be the daddy." "Aww, aren't they just sooo cute?" "We'll live in a big house and have a garden and two babes, a boy an'a girl." "The perfect couple. Who knows where they'll end up?" "And you'll be a rich councilman." The Blasted Plains, Earth V, The smoke of distant fires painted the edge of the heavens with a tainted brush but that didn't really matter; there was no one to see it, at least no one who cared. Deep in the labyrinth of tunnels and caverns, the hunted huddled together, choked by their own stench and breathing in each other's air. "We need to get deeper," muttered one. Crimson eyes flickered as their owner shifted uncomfortably in the darkness. "There is nowhere deeper." "He'll find us here." "He'll find us anywhere," moaned another. "We're just delaying the inevitable." "Shut up," hissed the first. "We're safe." "For now," returned his companion. A heavy sigh followed. "Here lies the once proud Vampree nation; nothing more than sport for the Dark Hunter." "Shut up." "Completely remorseless, utterly ruthless--" "Shut up!" "--infinitely patient, totally unstoppable--" "WILL YOU SHUT UP?!" The cry echoed away through a startled, almost shocked, silence. ...shff... "Did you hear--?" "Shh." ...shff...shff... "It's him, it's him!" "It can't be! Don't panic! Don't--" A new pair of crimson eyes in the darkness were drowned in the muzzle flare as the shotgun bellowed. The silver song of the crossbow went all but unnoticed, drowned by the screams of the dying and the soon to be. "Run! Run for--" The knife glowed in the darkness. Energy trails coiled and coursed around the slashing motion and picked out, for the briefest of instants, the thick black droplets before the blood rejoined the dark. A lone man managed to take his fallen comrade's advice, breaking for the tunnels. Bouncing off walls and staying on his feet more by luck than purpose, he headed upwards and ever upwards. The dark pounded to his heart, hissed with the rush of blood, rasped with his breath. A stray beam of sunlight was playing through the entrance to the labyrinth; he paused to let it wash across his face. Stepping out onto the hillside, he looked down and watched, bemused, as the silver bolt sprouted from his chest. "...fug me..." He dropped to his knees, then tumbled slowly till his face was pressed against the barren earth. "What..." He gasped, limbs scrabbling uselessly against the rock; the black boots approached and then the Hunter was down on one knee beside him, bending in to catch the Vampree's hair and pull the head up. "What... are... you...?" The only reply was the silver edge and the sudden and merciful kiss of oblivion. Genetic Engineering Project, Talor The golden light flooded the chamber as the DEDA team made the jump back home. They collapsed against the opposite ends of the chamber, not releasing their death-drips on their weapons till the last traces of the d-portal energies had faded to a lingering greasy feel in the air. Face masks and helmets were cracked open, swat armor catches released, and a group of very tired men and woman breathed sighs of relief. The wiry-haired scientist burst in threw the door almost before the decontaminating process had finished. He glared at the group as they slowly and painfully divested themselves of the tools of their job, clearly impatiently annoyed. "The sample," he finally hissed after they continued to resolutely ignore his presence. "Where's the sample?" "Keep your hair on, Doc," muttered the group leader. He peeled off his combat vest, wincing as it came away sticky with blood. "Where's the damn Medics?" "My job," hissed the Doctor, "is more important than a couple of damn flesh-wounds. I need the Vampree genetic material immediately! I need to get to work on the hybridization between it and the Callahan DNA instantly." "Well, you can just--" began the group leader, but his first officer interrupted. She held out the cryogenic flask. The Doctor snatched it without a word of thanks, turned on his heel and stalked towards the door. "Hey, Doc," she called after him, "what's all this stuff for, anyway? What's Project: Parafoil really after?" "The perfect soldier," snapped the Doctor. "A genetic hybrid that far surpasses anything you grunts can achieve. These soldiers will win any and all wars for us. And don't call me Doc!" He hurried out. "I'll believe that when I see it," muttered the first officer. "Grunts indeed." "Whatever," snapped the leader. "Will someone get a bloody medic in here?" Grey Sector, Santra Kae "Fall back!" The Private yelled, almost screamed, his voice distorted by fear. "We must fall back!" "Not while there's still breath in our bodies!" bellowed Reynard, perched on the cockpit of the small hovertank, laz-pistols blazing in his hands. "Onwards, man!" "What happened to 'leave and live to fight another day'?" asked Jackson, voice echoing metallically across the radio link. The hovertank's plasma-cannons thundered, shaking the small craft. "We don't have another day," called back Reynard, ducking back into the co-pilot seat long enough to check his monitor screens. "Where the hell is that boy?" "He'll be here," said Jackson, "for all the good that it'll do. Retreat is a viable option, you know." "Never thought I'd hear you say that, of all people," Reynard said distractedly, tapping at the monitors. "I never expected to be fighting with the colonists against our own government," returned Jackson. "Different situations require different solutions, Jase. No honor will be lost if we pull back now." "You know," said Reynard, ignoring him, "I don't think these damn things are work--" He was cut off, as the sky ripped open above them and golden light began pouring out around the incoming vessels, picking out the wolf emblem on their sides. Cannons and missiles began blasting into their enemies, making short work of the first line of defense. The anti-aircraft guns began to balm in the distance, filling the sky with screaming metal. The ships strafed and danced, continuing their relentless assault. "The Wolves are hear!" The cry went up, cheering racing through the ranks as they redoubled their efforts. "The Wolves!" "It's not enough," hissed Jackson. "We must retreat." "Not this day, old friend." Reynard jumped back up to his feet, his guns blazing once more, yelling over the firing "Onwards! They'll talk of this in the days to come: the Foxes last and greatest stand. Hear me! These isn't the weeping of a dying cause, it's the birth cries of a new nation. Onwards! Victory!" "Rhetoric be damned," snapped Jackson back, keying the weapons. The battle was joined. Luvcomix Manor, Earth J, "Slipping out of the party, eh?" Nope raised an eyebrow solicitously, grinning. "That's not your usual style." "Nothing like that," returned Ali. "Oh?" Nope's expression suddenly grew serious. "Is something wrong? What's the matter?" "Nothing's the matter," she said. "I just wanted to tell you first, in private." "Umm, okay." Confused and curious, Nope added "Tell me what?" "I've known for a couple of days now," she said, "but I wasn't sure... well, how you'd react, for one thing. Or how the others would react." "Yes, and--?" prompted Nope. He grinned. "The blank look's for a reason not just natural stupidity." She smiled, then quickly became serious again. "Nope, I'm... That is... Well, it's..." She trailed off, moving close to him taking his hands in her and placing them tight against her stomach. "Well?" "Well, wha-" Nope tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowing. "What the--?" His jaw dropped. "You're pregnant?!" "Ah-huh," she nodded, worried as he continued to stare at her with his jaw dropped, unmoving; and then the worried expression was wiped from her face as he pulled her into a hug so tight it lifted her off her feet, whooping and spinning her around. "You're happy, then?" she half laughed, half gasped as he finally put her down. Grinning like a loon, Nope said "Ecstatic" and proved it by kissing her. "Mm-hmm," she managed, repeating herself when they finally broke. "Merry Christmas, Nope." "You know, I don't think my people actually celebrate Christmas." "Shut up and kiss me." "Gladly." and the way that we wanted to be Then we sat on our own star and dreamed of the way that I was for you and you were for me We went on to dance the night away And turned to each other to say, 'I love you, I love you' The way that young lovers do. |